Thursday, December 3, 2015


I recently faced an emotionally difficult decision. 

I had to walk away from a relationship I felt held great potential but wasn't moving as forward as well as I would have liked, leaving both of us very frustrated and hurt. While he now realizes he's not ready for something serious and wants to remain just friends for now (his words), and as I would like to see the relationship continue to develop, I believe the standoff would continue to leave us both confused and frustrated knowing that what he wants, I can't give and vice versa. So, I chose to say goodbye to my best friend. I believe we both are heartbroken, empty and feeling quite a loss. I know I am.

And I miss him.

But the tears haven't come.

I have not been able to cry.

This was a most unconventional relationship, one I never expected to be in, caught totally by surprise that I had feelings this deep for someone so different than I am; 

feelings this deep for someone who supported me wholeheartedly in so many levels of my life;

feelings this deep for someone who helped me learn more about myself in the four short years of this relationship than in the combined twenty-four years of my other long-term relationships;

feelings this deep for someone who challenged and encouraged me to think differently, and step outside my comfort zone;

feelings this deep for someone who encouraged me to be myself, no matter who that might be;

feelings this deep for someone who didn't quite fit "the list" I had written post-divorce putting out to the Universe what I wanted in my next partner;

feelings this deep when I had given up hope of meeting someone;

feelings this deep for someone thirty-some years younger than I and over one thousand miles away.

And I miss him badly.

But still the tears can't come.

Does this mean I had already accepted it was over but couldn't face ending it myself? I don't know, I was miserable in the last years of my marriage but couldn't fathom taking that step to end it. 

Does this mean I had hoped things would continue to change even when evidence began pointing to the fact they no longer were? This is hard for me to accept because, for a while, I had seen the changes I had hoped to see, along with the incredible and sincere effort he was making to effect those changes.

Was I reluctant to acknowledge it really wouldn't work because of the differences between us despite all of the amazing green flags that I saw? I don't know.

And I miss him terribly.

But still the tears don't come.

Is this a sign I haven't quite given up hope it will eventually work itself out? We connected creatively. We connected spiritually. We connected first as friends, which grew into deeper feelings that we both wanted to explore; both of us wanting to build the friendship into something bigger, deeper. We both acknowledged this was a relationship unlike any other we had ever had which both frightened and excited us. We had always told each other that his happiness was more important-that whatever made the other happy far superseded our own pain at losing the romance while trying to maintain the friendship.

We could talk openly to each other about anything. We talked openly about the challenges we saw in the relationship. We talked openly about how we felt that together we could conquer the challenges. We talked openly of our fears and helped reassure the other. We talked openly to each other when we were upset and how we could compromise to avoid such issues in the future. We talked openly of our hopes for the relationship, for ourselves and also for each other. We talked openly of our own personal bad days and supported each other in helping him through it. We talked openly of our grief when we lost someone important to us. 

We saw each other as friend, boyfriend or possible partner and we floated between the roles with the ease of a knife sliding through soft butter. I could talk to him as my friend or flirt with him as my boyfriend. I could imagine him sitting next to me in my car; reading a book next to me on my sofa; writing lyrics while I finished a chapter in my novel; lying next to me in my bed cuddling during a rare California rainstorm. It all felt so natural to this jaded old man.

And now it's all gone. I miss it all.

And I miss him so very much.

And still the tears won't come.

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